The Hostage Kind of Way
by Herr Fritz
Summary: "Yes, Chonny, It's a good hideout." Dr. Einstein isn't one for telling the truth, but the one time he triest being honest results in getting verbally- and physically- trapped anyway. Jonathan/Einsten.


**So, I hope to do a (semi-connected) series of **_**Arsenic and Old Lace**_** fics based off Dr. Einstein's quotes taken from the movie. My friend game me a list of them, and I hadn't realized how many sound innuendo-laced out of context. With that in mind, many of the fics **_**will**_** be slash…though in Jonathan and Dr. Einstein's case, 'slashing' may be quite literal :P .**

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"_Yes, Chonny, It's a good hideout."_

Dr. Einstein was not an honest man. He held no misgivings against lying to Jonathan; in fact, there were times being honest would have undoubtedly resulted in a swift death.

Yet this time, standing in a doorway of a two-bit inn in Casablanca, Einstein couldn't help but tell the truth. For a moderate fee, the innkeeper had allowed a frighteningly chilling man and his short companion a room for the week; for the privilege of keeping his life, the innkeeper had given them the best room-no- _suite_ in the building.

"I mean, look at this, Chonny!" the doctor ran to the opposite side of the suite. "We have chairs, and a couch, and a table…" his gaze fell to a small endtable beside him. "And real glasses and silverware for eating! Oh Chonny, it is almost too good to be true!"

Jonathan clearly didn't share the same enthusiasm as his companion, as he gazed wryly at his surroundings. "Yes, but it's too _clean _doctor. I don't know how you expect to change my face without leaving some traces of…our endeavors."

"But Chonny!" Einstein was already making himself at home on the couch. "You have such a nice face already! Is like my masterpiece. Better than the third face I gave you, I am thinking!" In many ways it was true. When the doctor had given his companion his third surgery, he was still learning about Jonathan's preferences and personality. The face he had given him then was lovely, but was too…perfect. Now, Jonathan had a few flaws- a bit of a blemish there, an eyebrow quirked higher than the other- but he was handsome nonetheless.

Einstein had prided himself enough on his accomplishment to go sober for four whole days before realizing that a changed face didn't make a changed heart. The next time Jonathan killed, he made up for his falling behind by downing an entire flask of scotch.

"It doesn't matter if I have a nice face, doctor," Jonathan remained at the door. "It's been too long. I've met too many people. We have to keep moving and keep changing."

"All right," the German resigned, before he found himself on the dangerous side of an unwinnable argument. "But first, I get drunk. So much travelling has made me sick. How about this: I go down to bar, they have nice alcohol at this inn, I hear, yes? I drink until my hands stop shaking-"

As he explained his plan, Dr. Einstein began making his way out of the room. He made it to the door before being blocked by his companion.

"Chonny, I must…" he stepped one way, then the other. Jonathan didn't move. "Chonny, this is funny, yes, but I must drink my-"

Before he knew what had happened, Einstein had been picked up by the front of his shirt and was tossed backwards. With a huff, he landed spread out on the bed.

"You will do no such thing, doctor." Since when did Chonny get so guttural, and how did he climb onto the bed and over Einstein so fast? The German tried to slide out, but Jonathan trapped him with his arms. "In case you were too distracted by the thoughts of slipping to an alcoholic stupor, we only have one bed."

Einstein had noticed. He had just hoped he could get nice and drunk before Jonathan noticed. And perhaps he could have passed out on the couch before night fell.

"At this point of time, the excitement of killing has left me…exhausted. And while I have no problems with sleeping beside a worm such as yourself or not, I realize that if I leave you to the mercy of the barkeep, you may not return until the morning hours." Jonathan began lowering himself down, falling to the side of the doctor at the last minute. "I need you to be in the best condition for my surgery tomorrow. If need be, I will _force_ you to have a good night's sleep to ensure top performance."

"You are _making_ me sleep with you?"

"I am _making_ you sleep, period."

"Ah, I-I understand, Chonny." The doctor was quiet for a moment. "Do you plan on…holding me the whole time we sleep?"

"Unfortunately doctor, I cannot trust that you won't run off to the bar if I let go of you. Don't be nervous. I'll try not to strangle you in my sleep.

Giving no regard to the muted squeak Dr. Einstein gave as Jonathan's hands wandered to rest at his stomach, the Brewster's breathing quickly fell to a slow beat, a steady _in-out_. Having no conscience must have allowed for restful and rapid sleep.

It took a lot longer for Dr. Einstein to fall asleep, after realizing that he wouldn't be making any trips to the bar anytime soon. And if he fell asleep knowing that another man's arms were wrapped around him as they lay there, that was fine.

And if the arms were wrapped around him weren't so much in an _endearing_ way than as a _being held hostage _kind of way, well, that was fine too.

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**Ah, the daddy of dysfunctional relationships. Don't forget to read and review (especially considering how few **_**Arsenic and Old Lace**_** fics there are)!**


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